Lewis No More
by BluePhyre
Summary: So this is the strange phenomenon they call a school dance, Lewis thought to himself. What a strange phenomenon indeed. Lewis/Wilbur Slash. Third in my 'Cestslash oneshot series.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Meet the Robinsons, nor do I own its characters. If I did, it would not be suited for young children because of extreme slash. Yay.**

First off, not my own idea. This was a request by Jamrulz. I guarantee I will say this a few (hundred) more times, but thank you for asking me to write this. It was fun up until the bum-ninja. It went downhill from there... Yeah, I just finished writing this, and I'm feeling super depressed now. _That's_ a great way to end my evening (morning, actually, since it's past midnight). Breathe... try not to turn emo...

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Lewis wrinkled his nose as he stared at the frightening sight before him. So… this was what they called a "school dance."

The inventor had never been to any formal event before, he was embarrassed to admit. But he had skipped middle and high school for college… And public elementary schools never really threw such social events. And Lewis had never accepted an invitation to a party before; time wasn't something Lewis had a lot of, yet. There was always that first time machine to look forward to…

Lewis felt it that he owed it to Franny to escort her to the prom; you're only a senior once, after all, unless you're Lewis. Then, well, you're not a senior at all. And ever since Wilbur had stopped visiting, it was almost like Franny was meshing into his life; not easily, since Lewis still felt a twinge of love for Wilbur when he laid eyes on the cowlick both he and his future mother possessed, but it still happened. This was for Wilbur, in a way, and that was fine with Lewis.

So there he was, with Franny smiling insanely on one arm and the other poised to hold open the door to the gym, which had been transformed from a homage towards everything athletic into a Hollywood-esque paradise, plus a couple basketball hoops.

"We're going to have so much fun, Cornelius," she giggled, squeezing her boyfriend's arm tighter. "None of the girls will believe it when I parade in with _you_ as my date. You're famous! _No one_ believes we're together… They think I'm crazy!"

Lewis didn't comment on the fact that Franny _was _indeed a little bit crazy. I mean… singing frogs? It worked, but to even dream such a thing up…

At this point, Lewis found himself dazing off, despite the friction between his feet and the ground that happened to be caused by Franny dragging him along. Vaguely, he wondered if Wilbur had ever gone to a dance with his future wife, Louise, or if they had been just as private about everything as Lewis had been with Franny. You know, until the prom.

And then Carl came into the young inventor's mind as well; he hadn't quite finished the theory on the system update he would give the robot, officially making him Carl 2.0. Lewis had been too busy getting ready for the prom; who knew tuxedos and ties took so long? Also, Lewis was skeptical as to how many people would believe him if he told them that he could recalibrate a rocket's fuel system blindfolded while reciting the square root of pie (he made up a song about it to pass the time on a particularly long car ride when he was six, and had sang it ever since when boredom struck), though he had yet to master the art of tie-tying.

But little did the genius know that there was someone in the room with an even _less_ believable story. Hiding behind the rather large punch bowl was none other than Wilbur Robinson, garbed in his usual Captain Time Travel t-shirt and jeans.

What had been running through Wilbur's head as he had traveled to the past? Well, initially, he was just going to hang out with his best friend gone father, but once he had turned up at the past's Robinson house and been directed to the prom by his own grandmother, Wilbur had decided to just roll with it.

Of course, he had expected to see his mother there, too, but seeing her clinging onto Lewis' arm had made him wince; that was something Wilbur could never do. He could never appear in public as anything but Lewis' son, and that hurt him.

Nonetheless, Wilbur decided to dwell on happier things, such as the hilarity of the music blaring from the gym's speakers. He couldn't believe Lewis actually _listened_ to this without having his ears bleed! It was so… 2013.

Wait… It _was_ 2013. Eww… Suddenly, the room felt so… vintage. Wilbur grimaced. He didn't do vintage.

"I've never seen _you_ before," a voice droned, breaking Wilbur from his horror-induced trance. As reality set back in, he came face-to-face with a creepy looking, extremely pale girl with black hair and completely black makeup. Her dress was black, too, and laced up like a corset. Wilbur shuddered. In _his_ time, this girl would be a major freak. So many fashion faux pas on one body…

"Annoying little girl, I don't have time for this! I'm on a very important mission!" Wilbur exclaimed, pushing her out of the way of his line of vision; this girl was blocking his view of Lewis, and it irritated him!

"I'm not little," the girl growled, "and my name is Lizzie. My fire ants will _eat you!_" Wilbur yelped and began to inch away; fire ants were the worst! But Lizzie's eyes lit up as the song changed to death metal, and proceeded to drag a terrified Wilbur onto the dance floor.

"Annoying little girl," Wilbur moaned; he as lost sight of Lewis who could have possibly saved him from Lizzie with, say, a freak-repellant spray or a robotic replica of Satan or something (Wilbur, being the preppy type, had always jumped to conclusions about people who wore all black when no one had died) who was dancing before him, hoping he would follow suit. When he didn't, she stomped on his toe and bared her teeth, which quickly got Wilbur's hips swaying. Swaying in _fear_.

"Don't you just love this song?" Lizze asked, smirking as Wilbur shuddered in fear and nodded. "It's by the Festering Boils." The Robinson fought the urge to gag. Festering Boils? Ugh, definitely Satanists…

"It's," Wilbur paused, trying to think of a clever way to hide what he was really saying. "Truthfully, it's so old school I'm getting an intercerebral hemorrhage in the extremely small part of my brain that I actually use nowadays."

"Whoa," Lizzie murmured, stopping her dancing in shock. "You have so much more underlying self-hatred than I do. I think, due to happiness at that fact, I might not be emo anymore."

Wilbur sighed, and the girl's mouth twisted into a giant smile. "Good to know I'm just that miserable," he muttered. "I'm dating my cousin because she looks exactly like my dad, who I fell in love with when I traveled back in time to get him to fix a problem I created myself, and even though he loves me, too, he refuses to talk to me at all because he's afraid to mess things up with my mom and cause me to never exist. What's your problem?"

Sometime in the middle of Wilbur's speech, Lizzie's mouth had dropped open in shock, and her eyes bugged out widely. "I-I," she stuttered. "No one understands me." Wilbur's eyebrow raised, wondering if that was really all. She muttered something about being _so_ not hardcore and sighed, standing awkwardly anf staring at Wilbur with awe in her eyes.

"Wilbur?" Lewis' voice broke through the crowd, and Wilbur's eyes widened. The blonde was coming his way, and Franny was frowning slightly as she followed close behind. Couldn't Cornelius pay attention to her just _once_?

"Oh, uh, hey, Lewis," Wilbur murmured awkwardly, laughing and waving sheepishly. Lizzie looked between Franny, Lewis, and Wilbur and immediately made the connection (Thank you, cowlicks). Then, she walked away, trying hard to not look as utterly shocked as she was when she collapsed onto the bleachers, her eyes as wide as dinner plates.

"What's with her?" Lewis asked, and Wilbur shrugged. The genius let it go, instead opting to pull Wilbur in for a hug. He complied, wrapping his arms around Lewis' hips and momentarily burying his nose into the crook between Lewis' neck and shoulder.

Franny watched the silent exchange and her frown grew. If Cornelius hugged that old friend, William or whatever, like that in public, people would think he was gay or something. Franny was _not_ happy to have her boyfriend looking like a homosexual…

The embrace went on too long for the future Robinson's likes, and she cleared her throat, her foot tapping anxiously as she waited for Cornelius to surface from his gayness. The two boys broke apart, both of them blushing slightly.

"Hey, Wilfred," Franny said to Wilbur, who grimaced, though he didn't bother to correct her. They had met a few times before, and somehow she didn't seem to like him too much. She also refused to remember his name, oddly enough. Wilbur hated to admit it, but he was really starting to hate his mother…

"It's Wilbur, Franny," Lewis murmured quietly, and Franny waved it off nonchalantly. "When was the last time we saw you, Wilbur?"

"Last month," Franny replied for Wilbur, and they both crossed their arms as they stared at each other with narrowed eyes. "You seem to visit to often for living in Canada, Winston. I'm sure Lewis doesn't like you spending so much money just to visit. There's a _reason_ he invented holo-chat, you know. Or do Canadians not have holo-chat? I can't fathom such a _good friend_ of Cornelius' not having his _amazing_ inventions."

Wilbur rolled his eyes and laughed. "I have more of _Lewis'_ inventions than you know about, trust me. And it's _North Montana. _Good to see you, too."

Lewis laughed nervously, taking Franny's hand to calm her down. "Ah, the two lights of my life," he murmured, only noticing the error of his words after both Wilbur and Franny turned their glares at each other to him. "I mean," he murmured, "uh, this is a great song! Let's dance!"

Franny's mouth turned up in a giant smile, revealing braces Wilbur had never remembered her having. "I thought you'd never ask," she murmured sweetly, shaking her hips enticingly to the beat of the music before dragging Lewis to the center of the dance floor.

"Hey, Wilhelmina!" she called over her shoulder, "go dance with that girl, Lizzie Borden or whatever!" Right on cue, Lizzie came up beside Wilbur and, with a sigh, patted his shoulder comfortingly.

"But that's a _girl's_ name," Wilbur moaned dejectedly, slumping over in defeat as the odd girl beside him tried to comfort him.

"You're life is miserable," she murmured, "but Franny is horrible. _She's_ your mother?" Wilbur nodded. "And she doesn't know it?" He nodded again. "And your father is Cornelius Robinson, the mega-famous inventor?" Nod. "You've got bit shoes to fill, too."

"Talk about it," Wilbur murmured. "I can't believe it, but I'm really starting to dislike my mother." Lizzie didn't respond, and Wilbur continued. "I was always a momma's boy when I was younger, until I came back in time and met Lewis."

"So this is the past for you," Lizze said quietly to herself. "This is a crazy story, but I've heard weirder. After all, my nickname is Lizzie Borden. I can't say that I like being called a murderer, but…"

"Lizzie Borden isn't your real name?" Wilbur asked naively, being very much a foreigner to the time of her parents, despite his frequent visits to it. "Who's she?"

Lizzie sighed, muttering, "You poor, depraved child of the future," before she began to recite, "Lizzie Borden had an axe, she gave her mother forty whacks. When she saw what she had done, she gave her father forty-one."

"Oh," Wilbur murmured. "That's creepy… and mean." Lizzie nodded slightly, and Wilbur smiled sadly. "You know, Lizzie, you're not so bad for a creepy, annoying little girl with fire ant minions and black everywhere and Satan, but I'm off to annoy the 'rents now, so I probably won't see you ever again."

"Satan..?" Lizzie asked, but Wilbur had already dived headfirst into the mesh of people dancing in the middle of the floor. She shook her head and sighed; some people were just so _weird_…

"Hey, Lewis!" Wilbur cried as he pushed through the crowd, jolting to a stop right beside the genius and his date. "And Francesca," he muttered after a second thought, much less enthusiastically.

"How did you know my full name, Wincenty?" Franny asked (displaying her vast knowledge of old English names), pulling away from Lewis to cross her arms, a stance she often took when Wilbur was around. Lewis sighed and his hand moved from Franny's waist to massage his temples. He knew this night wasn't going to end well…

"Lucky guess," Wilbur replied, shrugging nonchalantly. "At least I have the courtesy to _remember_ your name at all, annoying little girl."

Franny's scowl grew, and, poking Wilbur in the chest, she growled, "Don't sass me, boy! I know karate."

"And I know feng shui, but you don't hear me bragging about that," Wilbur said haughtily, crossing his arms like Franny had. Both she and Lewis raised an eyebrow, and Wilbur didn't at all care about their confused looks until Lewis leaned in, his breath tickling his ear dangerously, and whispered that feng shui wasn't any type of martial arts.

"I meant ninjitsu," Wilbur corrected himself, his frown still playful enough to make Lewis wonder if it had really been an accident or not. "Either way, I can kick your girlish little butt any hour of the day. Fortunately for your tush, though, I'm also a hardcore pacifist."

"No you're not," Lewis argued, and Wilbur's expression became utterly serious.

"Dinosaurs don't count, Lewis," he replied quite professionally. "It was about to eat you! I couldn't just let it swallow you whole like some tasty fruit snack!"

Franny looked between Lewis and Wilbur, sighing. "Your stupidity is so astounding I'm surprised a genius like Cornelius can even stand within twenty meters of you without spontaneously combusting."

"Likewise, little lady," Wilbur said, winking and slinging an arm around Lewis' arms in the process. "See? No flames here. Too bad, though, Francesca, because he'll always like me better than you, even if I _did_ cause him to spontaneously combust one day. And knowing me, I would. Right, el Human Torch?"

Wilbur looked and Lewis, whose face was somewhere in between mortification and extreme annoyance. "Wilbur, get off me," he demanded in a tone that Franny thought was softer than it should have been after Wilbur severely insulted his girlfriend. "You two, stop it. Can't you keep peace for one night?"

Franny burst into tears, and both Lewis and Wilbur jumped, horrified to see a girl cry. "It's never about me!" she screamed, causing everyone in the gym to turn to look at the three. "Cornelius Lewis Robinson, you _never_ pay any attention to me! You don't even deserve to call me your girlfriend, you sleazy, super-intelligent, fruity bum-ninja!"

And, despite all seriousness, Wilbur chuckled. Fruity bum-ninja… Yeah, that was definitely Lewis…

"Wilbur Robinson, you just made your mother cry and you're _laughing_?" Lewis asked in shock, though he thought his new title of "Fruity bum-ninja" was quite eccentric.

"It's not funny," Wilbur murmured, "but 'bum-ninja?' Come on, I'm the immature one in this outfit. Besides, _you're_ the one who made her cry."

Lewis groaned, shoving Wilbur slightly. He knew he didn't mean it, but still, Wilbur couldn't help but frown as Lewis trudged after Franny, practicing his apology under his breath.

The boy with the cowlick frowned; he wished Lewis would do the same stuff he did for Franny for him. It wasn't fair; just because of the circumstances, Franny got his affection. True, it was only so he could be born, but she still got it. In the end, _she_ won.

Lewis followed Franny to the senior courtyard, where a gazebo was lit up in the center. She had sat down in it, sniffling through her dwindling tears. Lewis sighed; he didn't like to see Franny upset, for even though he didn't love her, he still harbored a deep friendship towards her.

"Franny," he called softly, and her head jerked up to reveal a rather cross look on her face. "Franny," Lewis said again, "I'm sorry I didn't stand up for you. I'm sorry I offended you. I didn't mean to… Please, I'm sorry."

"You never mean to," she replied, barely loud enough for Lewis, who had taken a seat beside her, to hear. "You _never_ mean to upset me, Cornelius, but you always manage to. You're busy with your inventions or your stupid Canadian friend visits or you're messing around the ballpark with Michael, but you never remember to spend time with me. _That's_ the issue. Not… not Wilbur."

"You got his name right," Lewis murmured, his voice gentle in thanks for her momentary, unguarded truthfulness.

"I know his name, Cornelius," Franny said, stiffling a sob as she rubbed her hand across her wet cheeks. "I don't even mind him. He's weird and funny and random. Heck, I think if I had a chance, I'd name my son after him. The cowlick fits right in with my family, you know. But… I get so jealous. You just pay more attention to him and everything else than me. Sometimes I think you lied."

Lewis' nose wrinkled in confusion, and Franny sighed. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Wilbur was watching from the doors leading into the gym, a pained look on his face.

"You said you wanted a _long-term _relationship, Cornelius," Franny murmured quietly. "You said that, if at all possible, you wanted to make this last forever. You said you wanted to marry me, to have children with me, to grow old with me, because it felt right. Well, I think you lied. Or maybe you're having second thoughts…"

"Franny, you know I…" Lewis started, but Franny cut him off with her finger pressed against his lips.

"If you want to rethink your words, go ahead," she replied calmly. "Just don't lead me along on something that won't last. Something that's not true. Cornelius, I love you, but to be with you I want that feeling to be reciprocated. I don't want to be dragged along because you pity me, or because you're afraid this relationship. If you love me, then say it. You've _never_ said it. And if you don't love me, if you _can't_ love me, then I'm leaving, because I deserve better."

"Franny, I…" Lewis stuttered, and Wilbur's mouth twisted into a masochistic smile. He was going to say it… Both his mom and his dad had told him that they professed their love at the prom. This was it. He had to listen, he had to get in through his head… He didn't belong.

"I love you," Lewis muttered, a smile twitching in the corner of his mouth. He did love her, but he still deceived her. He didn't love her as a wife, nor as a sister. He loved her as a friend, as a mother to the one he truly adored the most. That was what he needed her for. And, Wilbur realized, Lewis still needed Franny. That was what made him Cornelius.

"Thank you," Franny whispered, resting her head in the crook of Lewis' neck. "I love you, too."

Wilbur watched them sit their like that for what seemed like eternity. His fists clenched and his palms grew sweaty. He bit his tongue ruthlessly, forming bruises on its surface. And then, he finally turned away, tears dripping from his tightly shut eyes.

His parents… They just looked so right. So perfect. And he had messed it all up. If he hadn't gone back in time, if he hadn't just tried to face his own problems… He wouldn't hurt. Lewis wouldn't hurt. Franny wouldn't hurt.

Everyone would be fine.

Wilbur made up his mind. He was leaving the dance. It was a bad idea to even come. Maybe he would wait around Lewis' house for a quick goodbye, a goodbye that would last a lifetime. He knew he couldn't meddle anymore… he was making things worse. He always did that. It was what he was made for, wasn't it?

A gentle hand rested on Wilbur's shoulder. He looked to the pale skin, following it down to Lizzie, who was substantially shorter than him. She offered a small smile, and the Robinson sent it back.

"I'll tell him you left," she murmured, and Wilbur nodded, waving a goodbye as he retreated out the gymnasium doors to where the time machine was parked. Setting it to be visible, he climbed in and let it shield him from visibility once more. After a moment of silence, he turned the keys in the ignition and drove away.

Unlike all the other times before, he didn't look back.

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Lewis trudged up the front steps to his parents' estate. The door was open, no doubt, for no thief was bold or stupid enough to rob the Robinson's house - not since Goob had been re-befriended, at least - but the genius didn't particularly feel like going in. It would remind him of Wilbur.

But then again, what didn't remind Lewis of Wilbur? He knew he had seen the conversation between him and Franny. He hoped he had missed out on at least certain parts, but Lizzie had boldly informed him, right in front of Franny, too, that he had seen everything and decided it was best to leave them alone and head back to North Montana.

"Wilbur, I'm sorry," Lewis murmured to the wind, hoping somehow the message would be conveyed over time and space. When there was no reply, Lewis sighed. He had hurt Wilbur. Again. He always managed to do that, didn't he?

"It's alright," Wilbur's voice answered back, and for a moment Lewis thought he was going insane. But the cow licked Robinson had turned off the invisibility shield on his time machine and opened the glass bubble that surrounded the seating area, his face grim.

"Wilbur, I didn't know you were there," Lewis murmured, wandering over to sit on the craft's wing and watch his son's chocolate brown eyes take him in. It was the first time he noticed all night, but Wilbur decided that Lewis looked rather handsome in a tuxedo. He always had looked cute, anyway…

"They _do_ say geniuses are insane," he laughed, but it came out as awkward as he felt after the evening's events. Lewis wore the same uneasy expression he did. So it wasn't just his imagination… "Listen, I just wanted to say goodbye before I left. I know my resolve hasn't been strong in the past, but this time I'm _not_ coming back to mess things up. Or bail you out of some mega disaster. You can handle that on your own, Mr. Smarty Pants."

"I really _am_ sorry things are this way," Lewis murmured. "If I could create something to make this all _right_ I would… But no one can bend reality. Not even me, the one whose catch phrase is 'Keep moving forward.'"

"Don't remind me," Wilbur moaned. "That's Cornelius. Just shut up and talk about something else."

Lewis sighed and tilted his head back, allowing him to see Wilbur more fully and likewise. The two stared at each other for a minute, fighting the urge to do anything that would put them past the point of no return.

"Shouldn't you be going, Wilbur?" Lewis asked, breaking the silence. He didn't want Wilbur to go, but seeing him had to be even worse for the both of them. It had to be, right?

"That is an excellent question, my friend," Wilbur replied, the catch phrase itself being only a ghostly image of what it once was. Lewis cringed; this wall killing Wilbur from the inside out. "I'll… see you around."

"Yeah," Lewis agreed, though he didn't make any movements to get off the wing of the time machine. "I'll be seeing you soon… hopefully."

Neither of them moved after their goodbyes. They stayed as they were, staring into each other's eyes, daring the other to make the first move to leave. Finally, Wilbur smiled sadly and, leaning in, placed a gentle kiss on Lewis' lips. Then, in one fluid movement, he softly pushed Lewis off the wing and hopped back into the driver's seat. The time machine flew into the air, and before he left, Wilbur made sure to draw a small, unnoticeable heart in the night sky. Still, Lewis made it out as the time machine vanished from sight.

The blonde sighed; he had to get to sleep. The morning would bring another day of inventing, another day of genius work. Another day being Cornelius, the person he was without Wilbur. But still, he paused, placing his fingers delicately on his lips. This was his last day as being Lewis, he was sure of it, and, as the sun rose, he knew he wanted to cherish it.

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First off… Yes, bum-ninja. I didn't feel like writing faggot, which I feel is offensive. So… bum-ninja. I was thinking of using butt-pirate, but bum-ninja just sounds funnier. That, and I'm on the ninja's side. Everyone knows pirates are ninjas natural enemies, not samurai.

Apparently…

And I was so, _so_ tempted to make Wilbur's middle name Elizabeth. (L: Wilbur Elizabeth Robinson, you just made your mother cry! What are you going to do next? W: I'm going to Disney World!) Yeah, I recently watched _The Producers_. (And a few old superbowl commercials...?) It sounds good, though, doesn't it? It rings! Wilbur Elizabeth Robinson. Say it. I dare you.

…

_Told_ ya it sounds good! This isn't half as serious as my other Lewis/Wilbur fics… But it was fun to write. I put Lizzie in there originally as a two second role, like in the movie. But then she became useful… So she stayed for about four pages instead. Woo!

And yes, I know I made Franny a bit of a bitch, but she sees the connection between Wilbur and Lewis. She's jealous. What girl (and I am saying this about myself, too,) isn't a bitch when she's jealous? Really? Heh, well, whatever. I can't help but slightly dislike Franny anyway. It's just awkward sometimes because my best friend happens to be named Franny… xD

And finally… Wow, I'm depressed now. This was sad. It was fun writing until I decided to make Wilbur wallow in his utter melancholy. Well, jamrulz, you poor sap who requested this of me in November of 2008, thank you for the idea. I'm sorry I took… well… forever. And I apologize for it not being focused on the jealously as much as the pure, utter sadness of these star-crossed lovers.

… I've also been reading Romeo and Juliet. I bet you never would have guessed.

Jamrulz, you rock if you're even bothering to read this. I don't blame you if you're not, because I suck at doing anything in a slightly timely manner. Oh well, that's part of my (anti)charm.

Thanks for reading, and because I love propaganda and assuming things, thanks for reviewing! Bye!


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